


Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

by Kit_Kat21



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Annulment, F/M, Infertility, Marriage, heavy is the head that wears the crown, the mad queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 18:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: Her eyes shift from Lady Sansa’s portrait to the other portrait hanging on the other side of the fireplace, clearly done by the same artist. The former Princess keeps a portrait of her former husband hanging in her bedchamber and Elinor believes Megga when the woman says that their Lady still deeply loves the Prince.





	Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

…

 

“Are you even paying attention to me, girl?”

 

The sharp voice snaps Elinor’s attention away from looking around the bedchamber back to the elderly maid, Megga. The woman is frowning at her and Elinor flushes with embarrassment for having been caught at having her mind wander during her tutelage.

 

But then, surprisingly, Megga’s frown seems to fade – just slightly – but enough for Elinor to notice.

 

“It is a beautiful room,” Megga agrees to Elinor’s silent assessment. “The Prince had made sure of it.”

 

Elinor looks from the two portraits(*) that are framed and hanging on either side of the fireplace to look at the other woman. Megga has been the personal maid to Lady Stark for much longer than Elinor – this being only Elinor’s third day since coming to work in Winterfell – and Elinor has heard the stories, same as everyone else, but she knows that they are different from the truth. They must be.

 

“Is it true the Prince refuses to marry again?” Elinor dares herself to ask.

 

“Despite our Lady’s hard-worked pursuits in choosing possibilities for him? Yes,” Megga replies.

 

Elinor’s eyes widen at that. “How can she bear to do that? Rumor is that she’s still deeply in love with him-”

 

“That is not a rumor,” Megga interrupts with a fierce frown; as if even suggesting that Lady Stark doesn’t love the Prince is the greatest insult.

 

“And yet, she is trying to help him find a new wife?” It is Elinor’s turn to frown now though hers is from confusion. She cannot imagine herself possibly acting the same if she ever finds herself in the same situation. She doesn’t understand how any woman could do such a thing.

 

“Lady Stark understands that the Prince has a duty. The Prince does not agree,” is all Megga says. “Now, once we wash the bedding…”

 

Megga continues on with the instructions as to the proper way of dressing the Lady’s bed, but again, Elinor finds her mind drifting after just a minute or so.

 

Elinor knows the story as does everyone in the North.

 

Jon Snow – Ned Stark’s bastard turned Jon Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne despite it being the absolute last thing he could ever want. His aunt, Daenerys, granting the North its independence as long as her nephew marry someone from the North, guaranteeing their loyalty to the remaining six kingdoms even if they aren’t a part of them anymore. Jon had married the Lady Sansa, his cousin, and Arya Stark had married a man, Gendry, who had taken the Stark name of his wife and they were left to rule Winterfell and the North while Sansa moved with Jon to King’s Landing as Prince and Princess to the Iron Throne.

 

There are stories of how fiercely Jon loved – _loves_ – his wife and how even after five years of unable to successfully become pregnant and supply Daenerys with the heir that she demanded of her nephew and his wife, Jon’s love never wavered even as stories began of Princess Sansa growing quieter and more distant over her inability to have a child; stories of how Jon had shouted and threatened the Queen that he and Sansa would leave and no one would ever see them again if she _ever_ mentioned the word “annulment” to him.

 

But of course, that word was going to be said – not just from the Queen – because it had been five years and it did not matter how much the Prince and Princess loved one another. They could not seem to have a baby.

 

There are some stories that people _don’t_ know and there are only rumors that are so unbelievable, they can’t possibly true. It can’t be true that Queen Daenerys, overcome with fury, had threatened to burn Princess Stark alive if she and Jon did not sign the annulment contract. They know that a Targaryen ruler can be mad or not – it’s all a flip of a coin – and the Queen does have dragons, but surely, she wouldn’t threaten to burn the Princess if she didn’t get what she wanted.

 

The rumors are told though as if they are the truth – at least to the people of the North. Elinor wonders though. She can’t imagine any man and woman giving one another up if they truly love one another.

 

The Prince finally signed the annulment as did the Princess and while he remained in King’s Landing with his aunt – already being whispered and called “The Mad Queen” by those in the remaining six kingdoms – Lady Sansa returned to Winterfell to live with her sister, brother-in-law, and the one remaining brother she still has – though Bran is often away, further North.

 

Lady Arya had never wished to rule and only did so because she is a Stark and it is her duty, but upon her sister’s return, she had gladly handed the reigns, once again, into her sister’s hands.

 

“Is the Lady Stark as beautiful as everyone says?” Elinor brings herself from her thoughts, interrupting Megga as she is in the middle of now explaining the process for drawing the Lady’s bath.

 

Megga stops in mid-sentence to look at the young girl with a raised eyebrow.

 

Elinor has lived in the North all her life and had been in Winterfell for three days now, but she has yet to see the Lady. Lady Sansa has been taking her meals in her private solar for the past few days and Elinor has yet to aid the Lady in the mornings. Megga has not deemed her worthy of the privilege and Elinor knows that if she keeps interrupting, she won’t be worthy for many more moons still.

 

Yet, she can’t help, but ask. The portrait of Lady Stark hanging on the wall is breathtaking and yet, Elinor knows a sketch can never seem to truly give the subject justice.

 

“Lady Stark is the most beautiful woman in the known world, both on the inside _and_ out,” Megga then answers in a tone that lets Elinor know that her answer is not to be questioned or doubted.

 

And whether that is the truth or another rumor involving Lady Sansa Stark, former Princess of the Iron Throne, Elinor finds herself believing Megga’s words. Whether it’s the truth or a rumor, Elinor knows it does not matter to her. She is of the North as is Lady Sansa and there is an instant, natural love Elinor has for her.

 

Her eyes shift from Lady Sansa’s portrait to the other portrait hanging on the other side of the fireplace, clearly done by the same artist. The former Princess keeps a portrait of her former husband hanging in her bedchamber and Elinor believes Megga when the woman says that their Lady still deeply loves the Prince.

 

A woman who still loves her former husband despite being unable to provide an heir for the Iron Throne and being threatened with death by fire-breathing dragons? To return to the North after all of that and still rise from bed each morning and run the North as well as a person can?

 

Megga must be right and not just spouting rumors. The Lady Sansa must be beautiful both inside and out.

 

Elinor just doesn’t understand how a woman who loves a man as much as Lady Sansa still loves the Prince could help him find another woman to love.

 

…

 

The Prince Jon visits the North and Winterfell as much as he possibly can. Despite living in the South now, the North will always be his home and it is no secret to anyone in the North that the only reason he lives in King’s Landing is because his aunt demands him to and it is sometimes easier to just placate the woman.

 

There had been some uneasiness – to put it mildly – among the Lords of the North when it was discovered that Jon Snow was in actuality Jon _Targaryen_ , but it had been through Jon’s negations with the Queen that the North had gained their independence and since then, they all (begrudgingly) gave the man their trust and as much respect as they could for a Targaryen despite him having been raised alongside many of them.

 

Elinor is surprised there isn’t more fanfare when the Prince arrives in Winterfell’s courtyard with a half a dozen of his men – trumpets blaring or banners flying – but there is just the Prince on the front horse and his men on their horses in formation behind him. Arya is there, happily jumping into her cousin’s arms for a hug, and Elinor sees the way the Prince smiles happily and hugs her in return.

 

His portrait in Lady Sansa’s bedchamber does not do him justice either for seeing him in person for the first time, Elinor thinks he is as handsome as her lady is beautiful.

 

Elinor finds herself holding her breath when she watches as Lady Sansa enters the courtyard then, all cool and regal as always, her frame buried in her thick fur cloak. Jon and Arya are laughing at something together, but Jon stops as soon as he sees Sansa. And then, setting Arya back down on her feet, Jon keeps his eyes on Sansa and nothing or anyone around him. Now that she’s near him, all he sees is her.

 

The rumors _must_ be true, Elinor thinks to herself as Jon then gently pulls Sansa into his arms, hugging her tightly, whispering something in her ear, and Sansa drops her formal pretenses and hugs him in return. Sansa’s life truly must have been threatened in exchange for an annulment for as Elinor continues to watch them, embracing and forgetting everything else around them, they very much look like a couple who is still married, greeting one another after too long of time apart.

 

Winterfell is always a hive for activity, but with the arrival of the Prince, there is something of a flutter in the air even when he and Lady Sansa go into her private solar and with the door closed behind them, no one sees them for hours; not even coming into the hall for supper.

 

Elinor can just imagine what they are doing in their privacy. Lovers torn apart due to duty and circumstance, she thinks of the songs and stories of heroes and their ladies and what they do for love. There are no songs about serving girls and knights who love them. The songs and stories are all about ladies like Lady Stark. Her heart flutters as her imagination sweeps her away while she should be filling cups with more wine.

 

“Elinor,” Megga says and pushes a tray laden with food into her arms. “Take that to the Lady and Prince.”

 

Elinor can’t help, but gasp at the new task and doesn’t dare even wonder why Megga gives this to her to do. She just hurries as quickly – yet as carefully – as she can to Lady Sansa’s closed solar door.

 

Brienne, the Lady’s personal bodyguard, is posted out in the hallway and when she sees Elinor with the tray, the tall woman turns and knocks on the door. If Elinor had been expecte either the Lady or the Prince to answer after a long time of waiting, breathless and half-dressed, she is disappointed.

 

“Enter!” Lady Sansa calls out in a perfectly even tone and within seconds of the knock.

 

Brienne gives Elinor a small smile before opening the door and Elinor carries the tray across the threshold, her stomach knotting with nerves though why, she isn’t too sure.

 

Sansa is sitting at her large, heavy-wood desk, pieces of parchment spread out before her and the Prince is standing at the window, his hands clasped behind his back, and his frown is fiercely directed at his former wife. Sansa hardly seems to even notice – and if she does, she seems to care very little and instead, she looks to Elinor and gives her the faintest of smiles.

 

“Thank you, Elinor. You may place it there,” she says, directing the girl to the table between the two chairs located in front of the fireplace.

 

Elinor nods and goes to do as directed.

 

“Jon. She’s a perfectly nice woman and from what I’ve heard, Myranda is also very beautiful-”

 

“Stop, Sansa,” Jon nearly growls at her in a voice so low, it makes Elinor feel goosebumps break out across her skin. She keeps her head down as she carefully empties the tray, setting out the two plates and the silverware along with the two cups and she knows she is dragging the task out, but she can’t help, but want to linger and neither the Lady or Prince are paying attention to her. They are staring at one another.

 

“I won’t stop, Jon, and I _can’t_ ,” Sansa says, getting to her feet, holding out a piece of parchment towards him. “Will you please just read her father’s letter?”

 

Jon doesn’t say a word. He leaves the window to cross the room to her desk. He takes the piece of parchment and still without a word, he goes to the fireplace and throws the parchment into the flames.

 

“You do that as if I haven’t wisely made a copy,” Sansa replies dryly.

 

“Why do you keep doing this?” Jon asks, going back to her and his voice isn’t low or angry anymore.

 

Now, he sounds completely exhausted. From the corner of her eye, Elinor sees the Prince wrap his Lady into his arms and hold her close to him. They seem to have completely forgotten that the door is open and Brienne is just outside and Elinor is still inside, setting out their evening meal at an agonizingly slow pace.

 

“I have the boat. I have the supplies and all the money we’ll ever need,” he is whispering to her. “I just need you, Sansa. It’s all ready, finally, and we can leave tonight-”

 

“She’ll find us, Jon,” Sansa interrupts him, speaking just as softly.

 

Elinor nearly loses their voices over the cracking and popping of the roaring fire.

 

“And if she doesn’t, she’ll take it out on our home and everyone here. You know she will,” Sansa says as she lifts her hand to rest on Jon’s cheek, his eyes closing at the contact and his head tilting into the touch. “The Gods didn’t wish for you and I to have a child together and now… now, this is the way it must be for us.”

 

Her voice waivers and Jon’s eyes open, able to hear it just as Elinor’s ears have picked up on it as well.

 

They aren’t paying attention to her – and Elinor is grateful for that because she is trying to blink as quickly as she can to keep the tears building in her eyes at bay – but she curtsies nonetheless and with the now-empty tray, she hurries from the room, leaving Lady Sansa and the Prince still holding one another and with his hands framing either side of her face, Jon’s lips now press to his former wife’s forehead, murmuring words against her skin that are meant for her ears and her ears alone.

 

Elinor hurries down the hallway, not meeting anyone’s eyes as she passes them, sniffling and feeling the tears sting her eyes and her chest aching with a burn.

 

For the first time in her life, Elinor has never been happier than she is right now to be a mere serving girl who has no songs sung about her or stories told about her and one of her largest responsibilities is remembering how to make Lady Sansa’s bed each morning.  

 

…

* * *

 

 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/25692313467/in/dateposted/)[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/39852218894/in/photostream/) (*) portrait inspirations by [arch2626](https://www.instagram.com/arch2626/)

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been in my head for a while now and I was finally able to get it down. Thank you for reading!


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